Read Online Grantville Gazette, Volume 59 by Paula Goodlett - Free Book Online
Authors: Paula Goodlett
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but right now we need to decide what we're going to do. The four of us. Tonight, tomorrow, the day after, and next week."
Yakov put his finger beneath his lip, and drew out his next words. "Ah, yes, what we are going to do. There are many things to consider, Albert. Much of the material in your copies is in Hebrew, or at least in Hebrew letters of an ancient sort. As William told you, I have good Hebrew type. Modern Hebrew type, of course, not like the script in your copies. The parts that are not Torah, we have no other source for. Though they are incomplete fragments, we can do nothing but publish them as they are. The pages in Greek and Roman letters are much the same, I think.
"Some of the Hebrew pages are Torah portions, though. It would be much more respectful of the text, and of much greater use, to fill in the missing words where the lines are broken into fragments. We would put the interpolations in brackets, of course. The sensible way would be to write out the merged text here and take it to the shop—merging and checking text while typesetting would drive us all insane. After our Sabbath and yours, I can bring one or two scholars here who are properly qualified for this, Jewish scribes who know what is required when they work with the words of the Torah. They must read aloud as they write, for just one example."
Albert stiffened, then sighed. "Which means nothing would get done until Monday. I hate just letting two days slip out of our hands."
"Is not 'Haste makes waste' an expression up-timers brought to us? But I share your concern. Tonight we can plan, until I must leave to be home for the Sabbath. And I think we could find steps you could take tomorrow to prepare for the work to follow."
Claudette Green stuck her head in from the dining room, holding a paper bag in her hand. "Dinner, guys! You can keep talking at the table. And look who's with me!"
Melisa Button came through the doorway, taking slow, cautious steps. William shot off the sofa and went straight to her, reaching out to gently take her hands. In a few more seconds she had an entire circle welcoming her home.
Albert returned to Yakov. "All right, if planning is what we can do now, let's see how far we can get with it over dinner. I'll drive you down to Deborah before the sun sets, and we can keep talking on the way."
Monday morning
Claudette surveyed the parlor and shook her head. It was fair to say the place had been transformed. All the furniture and Old Joe's good rug were tucked away for safety up in the new barn. A workbench that a couple of the men had hammered together out of green lumber dominated the middle of the room, along with a pair of card tables and a bunch of mismatched folding chairs. Instead of a single stack, Al's photocopies now rested in a neat row of file folders, sorted by alphabet and topic. They had Kat Meisner and one of her friends from the Bibelgesellschaft to thank for a big part of that job— Saturday had been a long day. There was half a ream of cheap newsprint for note-taking and a mug full of pencils. Al was looking as anxious as a racehorse waiting for the bell. She threw him a sideways glance. "The things we do for the faith. How long is it going to be like this?"
He returned a crooked smile. He understood, all right. "No longer than it has to, honeybunch. Once we're done with this batch, there won't be any more typesetting. We can get just about all the books done by photo reproduction. William and Yakov say they're in good enough shape for a job shop to do them."
"And aren't you glad you never wrote in the margins or underlined sentences, like some of those college nerds? Well, kiss me, and I've got to get going. John's taking the station wagon to bring up the paraphernalia and your new buddies, so I'll ride down with him. Crack the whip on those obsessive-compulsive fuddy-duddies and get this wrapped up and out of here, will you?"
He laughed, and took her in his arms.
Kornzweigs Delikatessen
Yakov put his finger beneath his lip, and drew out his next words. "Ah, yes, what we are going to do. There are many things to consider, Albert. Much of the material in your copies is in Hebrew, or at least in Hebrew letters of an ancient sort. As William told you, I have good Hebrew type. Modern Hebrew type, of course, not like the script in your copies. The parts that are not Torah, we have no other source for. Though they are incomplete fragments, we can do nothing but publish them as they are. The pages in Greek and Roman letters are much the same, I think.
"Some of the Hebrew pages are Torah portions, though. It would be much more respectful of the text, and of much greater use, to fill in the missing words where the lines are broken into fragments. We would put the interpolations in brackets, of course. The sensible way would be to write out the merged text here and take it to the shop—merging and checking text while typesetting would drive us all insane. After our Sabbath and yours, I can bring one or two scholars here who are properly qualified for this, Jewish scribes who know what is required when they work with the words of the Torah. They must read aloud as they write, for just one example."
Albert stiffened, then sighed. "Which means nothing would get done until Monday. I hate just letting two days slip out of our hands."
"Is not 'Haste makes waste' an expression up-timers brought to us? But I share your concern. Tonight we can plan, until I must leave to be home for the Sabbath. And I think we could find steps you could take tomorrow to prepare for the work to follow."
Claudette Green stuck her head in from the dining room, holding a paper bag in her hand. "Dinner, guys! You can keep talking at the table. And look who's with me!"
Melisa Button came through the doorway, taking slow, cautious steps. William shot off the sofa and went straight to her, reaching out to gently take her hands. In a few more seconds she had an entire circle welcoming her home.
Albert returned to Yakov. "All right, if planning is what we can do now, let's see how far we can get with it over dinner. I'll drive you down to Deborah before the sun sets, and we can keep talking on the way."
Monday morning
Claudette surveyed the parlor and shook her head. It was fair to say the place had been transformed. All the furniture and Old Joe's good rug were tucked away for safety up in the new barn. A workbench that a couple of the men had hammered together out of green lumber dominated the middle of the room, along with a pair of card tables and a bunch of mismatched folding chairs. Instead of a single stack, Al's photocopies now rested in a neat row of file folders, sorted by alphabet and topic. They had Kat Meisner and one of her friends from the Bibelgesellschaft to thank for a big part of that job— Saturday had been a long day. There was half a ream of cheap newsprint for note-taking and a mug full of pencils. Al was looking as anxious as a racehorse waiting for the bell. She threw him a sideways glance. "The things we do for the faith. How long is it going to be like this?"
He returned a crooked smile. He understood, all right. "No longer than it has to, honeybunch. Once we're done with this batch, there won't be any more typesetting. We can get just about all the books done by photo reproduction. William and Yakov say they're in good enough shape for a job shop to do them."
"And aren't you glad you never wrote in the margins or underlined sentences, like some of those college nerds? Well, kiss me, and I've got to get going. John's taking the station wagon to bring up the paraphernalia and your new buddies, so I'll ride down with him. Crack the whip on those obsessive-compulsive fuddy-duddies and get this wrapped up and out of here, will you?"
He laughed, and took her in his arms.
Kornzweigs Delikatessen
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